Outhouse
by Greenaleydis
Summary: What starts as a quick trip to the bathroom turns into a huge spectacle, and the strangest experience of Draco's life. Is it possible to die of humiliation? Somewhat of a sequel to Booty. A Dramione one-shot.


**Outhouse**

Hermione looked around the beach. It was a beautiful day and this was her first outing as a free woman. No more Voldy, no more schooling, no more Order. When was the last time she had taken a vacation? She desperately needed it. Harry and Ginny were going to meet her and Ron there soon, and then it'd be just like old times, before they'd had Voldemort really hanging over their heads.

It certainly didn't help that she didn't even know how to vacation - she'd brought books with her to the beach on her pseudo-date with the lovely Ronald Weasley... who knows what he saw in her. It was like comparing a Roman god to a goat. He was so nice to her now.

"Hermione, love," he said sweetly, handing her a bottle of cola. She took it with a smile.

She'd started going out with him properly after seeing him in the Hogwarts library, when they'd both ended up having dibs on the next taking out of a popular book. After Hermione had gone back to finish her schooling, she had discovered her love of books all over again. After all, she'd been traveling in the forest with Harry for who knows how long - and that entire time, she'd had one fiction book. _One_. She could recite the bloody _Beedle the Bard_ by heart if she wanted to, or turn some of the stories into Shakespeare.

Hmm. Now there was a thought.

Going out with anyone except for Ron had been too awkward, and besides, she never imagined that he'd start to love books as much as she did - he could rant about books and love just the _smell_ of books. Ron was a real keeper - as a friend and a boyfriend.

* * *

Well, the girl wasn't a total prude, but let's be honest -

There was no way he was getting into her chastity-belt knickers without a little help from her.

Ron wasn't a total animal of course; he'd never do anything to her that she didn't want him to do, but _come on, _woman. They had been going out loosely for five months, and there was nothing going on yet. It was driving him out of his mind.

Especially since she'd shown up to their beach outing wearing a bloody one-piece. With ruffles.

Not that he didn't like the pink flower pattern... but if he'd wanted to date a ten year old, he would have.

That's why he'd slipped her a little something into her drink to help her relax. It was a beautiful day, the water was blue, the birds were chirping, and she was going to study? Hell no. His little "chill pills" would put those books firmly out of her mind.

... Maybe a little too firmly. But that was a good thing.

* * *

Strange wasn't the best way to describe how she was feeling. The feeling wasn't exactly strange... it was just different.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said her date, fishing out some sun-blocking potion. Hermione relied on her muggle sun-block for this - no potion could beat her SPF 60, and going home with a burgundy back was the last thing she wanted.

"Yes, it is," she said, fingering the strap of her bathing suit. For whatever reason, his words clicked wrongly in her brain, and she giggled. She was not the type to have her mind constantly in the gutter. _I mean, he does have a really nice body and everything... where has that been hiding? Well, anyway, he's one of my best friends. He has kind eyes... and really nice skin... and really great back muscles.._.

"Did you want to help me?" Ron asked, eyeing her hands on his shoulder, the potion on his hand. The potion itself was a thin, pearly white, and the way it was on his hand, dripping onto his bare leg made it look like -

Hermione jerked back as if she had been shocked. "No, I just... can't see the water past you, it's so pretty!"

Hermione had always been a terrible liar when she was nervous.

* * *

_What a day! _Draco Malfoy thought as he stretched his arms.

Now that all that paperwork and crap was done with, he could really enjoy his freedom - starting with a lovely trip to the beach. He was as pale as an infirmary wall, and without his shirt, he really looked pasty. It was time to change all of that. He'd come out of the dungeons and the darkness looking like a bloody ghost; now that he was a free man and on the side of the light, it was about time that his skin reflected that.

Hey, even Harry Potter had a healthy glow to his skin...

Not that Draco made a pastime of checking out Harry Potter's skin tone... but he'd definitely noticed it as Potter had walked right by him just then.

First things first though, he really needed to use the bathroom - he'd been holding in his pee for an hour. Draco looked around, trying to locate one close by. His eyes briefly settled on the sea water a little way down the beach from him... but no, there were little kids everywhere. He didn't want some five year old screaming, "Stranger, danger!" all the way to his mother. He'd just been proven innocent for war crimes. He didn't need a pedophile charge instead.

There'd be no way to explain that one to everyone.

There was a blue outhouse in the distance, at least. He'd have to go for that, even though he'd pee in public before he'd put his delicate arse on that seat. He didn't want to have to burn off some of his skin in order to avoid herpes or some else that was far more sinister.

Like penile amputation.

Draco shivered and scurried over to the outhouse, trying not to picture himself as a girl. He'd done that once - and vowed never to try it again. It had definitely not ended well.

* * *

Hermione was not feeling well at all.

It was hot as Hell outside, and she had the strangest urge to take off her bathing suit. Not to mention her heart rate was jacked, her skin was turning red despite the sunscreen, and she had the distinct feeling like... she had to pee or something.

Or something.

She squinted at her date, who was grinning into the sunlight as he put his hands behind his head and sunbathed. She really wanted to...

"Um, may I be excused?" Hermione asked, her voice thick. She needed to get away from him and his amazing sexiness before she did something... impure.

He looked at her through his newly donned sunglasses. "Of course, Hermione."

Hermione threw herself off the blanket and looked around. She saw skin everywhere, and it wasn't helping her condition. As she was standing in the middle of a beach on a beautiful day, the beach was buzzing with people of all ages, and all of them had exposed flesh for her to snag her eyes on. She found herself staring at a passing teenage girl in a skimpy black bikini. There was something really fascinating about the roundness of her -

Wait a tick. Why was she staring at that girl like she was something to eat? Hermione wasn't a lesbian. She'd played in the lezzie little leagues once, thanks to Malfoy, but she would never even dream of going pro.

A middle aged, balding man walked by, and Hermione found herself staring again.

Okay, since when was a hairy back, muffin top, and socks with sandals considered sexy? There was something _seriously_ wrong with her.

The logical side of her brain took over and she went over her symptoms in her head. Sweat that had nothing to do with the sun. Abnormal body heat generation. Jittery skin, strange sexual fascination with random people...

And suddenly, she knew.

_Ron... how had he managed to give me lust pills? My cola... he DIDN'T! That prat - so is that why I felt like jumping on him? And is that why I've got this... this ache..._She looked around for a toilet, letting her eyes fall on the ocean water briefly before shaking her head. There was only one way for the effects to die down... she spotted a blue portable loo a little ways away. She had to get rid of this in privacy, before something happened that she would regret.

She stomped over to the thing, trying not to think of how much more turned on walking was making her - legs rubbing together, skin sprinkled with sweat, chest heaving -

_FOCUS, HERMIONE!_

* * *

Draco sighed as he finished up - there was nothing like getting out what you had to get out. He reached down for his swimming trunks.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Draco whipped around in horror, half expecting to see the Dark Lord standing there, coming to murder - or molest - him.

Instead, he saw a very flustered, very out of breath, and very sexy looking Hermione Granger.

He'd seen that look before, though he hadn't _ever _seen it with so much intensity. She'd been wearing the same expression when she'd made out with him as a girl, back when they were in school - the night he'd pranked her to prove she was a lesbian.

She stopped in horror briefly before she started to stare at his body. He actually stepped back as her brown eyes darkened and she bared her teeth.

Right now, she looked like a very hungry lioness, and that made him a little more choosy about his next words. Her turned on expression was not lost on him, but _no one_ barged in on him while he was in the bathroom.

"A little privacy, mud - ?"

She jumped on him.

* * *

Hmmm. Where had his date gone? Those lust pills should have kicked in by now. They were _supposed_ to be making out at this point.

In fact, those pills were supposed to be at full force now. He had put more than the recommended dosage in her drink, but he figured that it was Hermione Granger, and just that fact suggested that she _needed_ a little extra dosage.

He looked around, taking off his sunglasses. Scanning the beach, he saw no one that looked remotely like Hermione. There were no grown women wearing pink, frilly one-piece swimming suits on this beach... though there were a few little kids wearing them. Had she changed into something a little more mature?

There was a little blue bathroom further down the beach. Maybe she'd gone to the bathroom.

Hopefully she wasn't getting herself off in there - that was _his_ job.

Little did he know.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, toting Ginny behind him and setting down a cooler and his clothes. "Where's Hermione?"

* * *

Draco's back exploded with pain as it hit the graffiti covered wall of the outhouse. He felt the entire structure shake and tip a little bit as Hermione continued to suck his lips off.

It was like being eaten alive.

"Um, Granger, shouldn't we talk about this?" he murmured as she went to work on his neck like a hungry vampire, snapping his head back by the hair with one hand while pulling the straps of her bathing suit down with the other. Draco's brain shut off as he felt her bare breasts press against his chest. "Nevermind," he said hurriedly, pulling her closer at the waist.

Did he actually just try to talk her out of this?

Sometimes, it just took a while for the better half of his brain - located somewhere between his navel and his thighs - to kick in and tell him what he should do. It usually wasn't wrong, but in her case, some bad things had happened before when he involved his better brain.

But how could he go wrong here? He had the most amazing luck in the _world_ to be in this situation. She had come out of nowhere, like a personal... sex goddess. He hadn't even needed to ask for this. It was amazing that he had just earned his freedom, gotten to the beach on a wonderful, sunny day, and now, quite suddenly, a sexy girl was eagerly stepping out of her bathing suit and giving herself to him.

This was what real freedom meant.

He was in absolute heaven.

She couldn't stop. Whatever she had taken courtesy of her oh-so-lovely date had obviously been too much, and she thought she was going to spontaneously combust if she didn't relieve the burn soon.

God forbid if she jumped a total stranger. That would not be a pretty thing at all. Her lust was so intense she could have made out with a wooden plank.

And as much as she hated Malfoy, at least she knew him a little. Even though he was giant prick, he did have a really great body, and was much softer than a wooden plank... though he was as hard as one in places.

She smirked as she wrapped her leg around his hip. _And a giant prick, indeed._

He leaned against the wall, lifting her hips up so she could wrap both legs around him.

This was _fantastic_. Maybe afterwards, he could taunt her about her lack of sexual self-control. The whole experience was now inflating his already over-inflated ego. Hey, he'd known that she had to be a sexual deviant; he had just been wrong about the type.

She was definitely _not_ gay.

If she were gay, she would not be obviously enjoying this so much, and would not be so obviously good at it...

Though she was biting his neck rather painfully. _Well, if she likes to play rough, then rough it is._ He pulled at the skin of her lower back.

As she gasped wildly and slammed herself against him again in response, knocking the wind out of him, there was suddenly nothing behind him. He let out a little gasp that had nothing to do with the sensations coursing through him as he fell backwards and then sideways, and Hermione tumbled with him, still ravenous.

* * *

There was screaming a little ways down the beach. Ron looked up, and his jaw promptly dropped. He quickly hit Harry over the head, who turned to hit him back, only to gawk at the scene Ron was looking at.

The little blue outhouse he'd seen earlier was on its side, and was rolling away.

The screaming was coming from everyone around it. People were running, following the thing as it tumbled down the beach. It promptly squished an elderly couple into their sandy towels before trucking towards the water.

"Is that... is that..."

"Yes, I think it is."

They both got up in a flurry of sand and ran toward the mayhem, leaving Ginny to stare at the spectacle. Hopefully, Ron's prude of a girlfriend wasn't still inside the little blue bathroom - otherwise, her pretty pink bathing suit was going to be brown instead, which was definitely a sexier color than pink... though a decidedly smellier one.

* * *

She didn't even look like she noticed the lack of gravity and her shoulder suddenly in the little toilet. She also didn't seem to notice the position change - how had they gone from standing up to lying down that fast?

Unfortunately, Draco was _not_ able to enjoy himself after that as he _did_ notice everything - especially his head cracking against the hard metal, his back scraping against the rough walls over and over, and the foulest smell in existence filling his nose. He briefly contemplated his "amazing luck" before he opened his mouth. So much for enjoying his freedom with a quiet, sun-filled trip to the beach.

This would probably win the award for his strangest sexual experience ever, with his lesbian escapade with Granger coming at a close second.

"Granger - " he said, his shoulder catching against a random metal bar painfully.

"Shut _up_, Malfoy," she said thickly, shoving her hips against him, and consequently increasing their rolling velocity.

Draco found it best to keep his mouth shut and concentrated on not breaking his neck against the little toilet that had broken away from the metal of the outhouse. It was rolling with them, showering them in wetness. He closed his eyes and tried to not think about what they were probably covered in at this point.

Hermione, of course, took bumps and scrapes rather well. Nothing could break her maniacal concentration. She was actually scaring the crap out of him - she had turned from a sex goddess into a succubus in a minute and a half. Even he couldn't do that.

Apparently, her ability to focus on one thing intensely worked in more ways than just schoolwork.

And for whatever reason, the sudden bumps and the falling feeling were actually making the sex absolutely fantastic, and her world was spinning and shaking around her. She rejoiced in her brain as she went to kiss him. His skin tasted pretty bad now though, and her balance was a little off.

As she came down from the throws of climax, she sighed and everything around them was still. She had _never_ in her life gotten off so quickly. She wondered if any girl ever had.

Maybe she'd actually thank Ron later.

And even though she had technically just romped with Draco Malfoy of all people, she found herself not caring. He was just lucky enough to reap the benefits of her imbecile boyfriend's mistake.

Take that, Ron Weasley. _That _was why she'd payed attention in class - so she wasn't an incompetent arse. Haha, Roman god to a goat. _He_ was the goat.

Though she had to admit that she was now a tad bit embarrassed about... jumping on Malfoy like that. He must have thought that she was going to eat him. Hell, she almost had.

She pulled him towards her roughly, only to tumble them out into bright sunlight, wet sand, and then cold salt water. He had a sudden spout of dizziness; he could not tell which way was up and which way was down. The cold set their senses on fire as they rolled away from the outhouse, catching their breath, and Draco felt out their bodies for broken bones, only to discover that the smell he'd smelled while they'd rolled was... fecal matter. The smell came back full force, mixed with the smell of fish, and the shit itself was _everywhere_ - on their bare skin, in their hair, between their fingers, surrounding them -

"Whoa, floating brown shark, nine o'clock!" he yelled, spitting the smell out of his mouth and pushing away from the brown patch next to him. It didn't help, as the "floating brown shark" turned out to be Hermione's confused head. Over it, he saw Weasley's red face and Potter's disgusted one, as well as at least four dozen people gawking at them.

"Um, Malfoy," she said, looking at the gobsmacked spectators, and then down at her stark naked, shit-covered self, "I think we left the door open."

Draco just stared at her incredulously.


End file.
